Campsite
by Jack-n-Sally
Summary: Arnold Helga Phoebe Gerald Rhonda and Curly go on a camping trip, to find that it's not what they expected.
1. The Ride There

_Hey everyone! This is another one of my Fanfics! I decided that if I can't keep my website open, then I would at least make fanfics :) Anyhoo, about the fanfic...I liked horror storys and I like Hey Arnold!, so I decided, hey; why not?! So here's a summary for ya: Helga, Arnold, Phoebe, Gerald, Rhonda and Curly all go on a camping trip between their Junior and Senior year, but there's something freaky about the campgrounds that they can't point out, and one thing leads to another. Please Review! Review, but I don't want any flames. Seriosuly, no ones making you read this. So be nice._

* * *

_**Helga**_ threw the last of the duffel bags into the backseat of the Volsewagon van, adjusted her cap, and hopped into the passenger seat, slamming the door next to her.  
  
"Alrighty then, let's go!" Helga clapped her hands together and clicked on her seat belt. Arnold tuned the radio to a popular rock song.  
  
"So, where's this place again?" Gerald asked from the back seat.  
  
"Towards Oregon; south; that is, about a hundred miles; Deschutes." Arnold told him, keeping his eyes on the road.  
  
"You DID remember to make the reservations; right? They're so hard to get" Phoebe asked, staring at the horizon. Gerald shrugged.  
  
"Arnold did it," he said. Arnold nearly swerved off the road.  
  
"What?!" Arnold's eyes widened as he tried to keep from staring at Gerald with disbelief while still watching the road.  
  
"Relax, me and Helga made them last month, remember?" Rhonda grinned. Arnold sighed with relief while Curly, Gerald, Phoebe and Helga let out a small laugh.  
  
"Well, what campsite number?" Arnold asked. The van grew silent. Arnold scowled. "Helga! What section number of the campsite?" Instead of looking him in the face, Helga kept her eyes on the trees passing by.  
  
"Arnold, just relax and stop acting like a baby," Helga told him. Arnold grew impatient.  
  
"You did it, didn't you?! You got the one by the lake, right? I thought we all agreed on this!!" Arnold frowned.  
  
As Gerald told it; legend had it that campsite by the lake was haunted. Someone was killed there not too long ago, and with Arnold constantly worrying about minor details and being paranoid about such things and supersitions, he banned the even thought of renting that number cabin. "I oughta turned this van around right now..."Arnold mumbled under his breath, still fuming.  
  
"Calm down Arnold. At least we didn't bring any hoo-doo ouija board or anything," Gerald told him. Helga gave out a nervous laugh, but didn't say anything.  
  
"Besides, you don't really believe in that stuff, do you?" Rhonda asked, playing with her manicured fingernails.  
  
"I don't. That stuff is a bunch of make-believe and big pile of bull-" Curly started.  
  
"Okay okay, fine. I'll go, but I still don't like it and I still can't believe you did it anyway, especially after you said you wouldn't..."Arnold scowled at Helga. She turned her face towards the side window so he wouldn't see her laugh.  
  
Arnold eventually shrugged it off and the van became silent with lack of conversation. They rode for about an hour and a half in silence, one of them attempting to start a conversation about the weather, and Rhonda even dared to attempt the subject of politics.  
  
With each of them only answering questions with a "Yes" or "No" or a grunt, they didn't get anywhere in a conversation.  
  
They continued to drive down what looked to be a deserted gravel road.  
  
"Did we miss a turn or something? Because I'm not seeing a campsite..." Arnold drove slower, glancing around for a sign of a campsite.  
  
"Well according to this map..." Curly lowered his eyebrows and eyed the map with such deep concentration it was as if he were eyeing a spanish enquisition. Helga turned her body so she saw Curly, glanced at the map he was clutching tightily in his hands. Her look of question turned into a look of impatience and anger.  
  
"Give me that!" Helga grabbed for the map, but Curly pulled away before she could get her hands on it. "It's upside down, dummy!! It's a no wonder we're lost!" Helga scowled her infamous scowl and reached for the map again.  
  
"You're supposed to follow the key, right here," Phoebe pointed on the map.  
  
"No, look at it this way. You don't know what you're doing man..." Gerald started.  
  
"You're all wasting your time. Let me see that thing. I've read a map hundred of times when I went with my family to Peru last Spring-" Rhonda, too, reached for the map.  
  
You could only guess what happened to a map that wanted to be seen by five different people at the same time. As soon as it tore, there were "I told you so!" and "look what happened!" and "now look what you did!" aimed at each other, until the van was a mob of not so happy campers, yelling.  
  
"STOP!!" Arnold screamed (yes, Arnold IS capable of screaming) at the top of his lungs as he swerved to the side of the road and slammed his breaks.  
  
"Oh great...not another speech about how imature we're being..." Helga muttered. It was then that they realized Arnold had pulled over into the small dirt parking lot of a convenience store. It looked so old and small it fit right into the random dying trees surrounding it. How Arnold had been able to spot it from the road, they'll never know, but they were thankful anyway to find some sort store where they could get direction.  
  
Arnold opened the door, and ran his fingers through his hair out of habit. He took the keys with him.  
  
"Don't kill each other all at once," Arnold told them dryly. The gang saw him walking towards the main door which was a dirty off-white, and could have once been red, since it had old red paint still peeling from it, still running his fingers through his hair.  
  
Helga opened the car door and hopped out, with Phoebe and Gerald right behind her, catching up with Arnold. Arnold walked into the store, not bothering to hold the door open for them, which was not really like him. But they couldn't blame him.  
  
He was not having a grand day.  
  
Helga glanced around the store, impressed. The inside was a palace compared to the outside. They had bright packedges of chips, cookies, and snacks aligned neatly on the shelfs, and although the majority of merchandise and food were off-brands, the store had everything from nail polish remover to marshmellows to first aid kits, despite the stores small size. The only thing that clashed with the stores cleansiness on the inside was the floor.

It hadn't been mopped in months.  
  
There was a man working alone, reading a magazine behind the counter with his back towards Arnold. He was a man in his mid-fifties, Arnold assumed, and was obviously a smoker. His hair was long, almost to his shoulders, greasy and he had an unshaved face. He wore grungy dirty clothes.  
  
Arnold coughed loudly to get his attention while Helga walked through one of the four aisles, in search of a snack, with Phoebe following close behind and Gerald in the magazine section.  
  
When the man kept his eyes on his magazine, refusing to be bothered, Arnold spoke up.  
  
"I, uh...would like to know if you know of any campground around here called-" he started.  
  
The man stuck his arm out to the south of them.  
  
"About a mile and a half up theres an ol' campsite, I reckon," the man grumbled, his eyes still buried in his magazine. Arnold was confused for a second, then decided if the man were wrong and they found nothing, he could always get help from someone else.  
  
Arnold shrugged, then motioned for Helga Phoebe and Gerald towards the door. Helga carried six ice-cream pops in her arms. Deciding not to bother talking with the man, she placed a five dollar bill on the counter, then followed them out the door and into the van.  
  
"What a throw-pillow..." Helga rolled her eyes, refering to the man as she tossed everyone a fudgcicle.  
  
They climbled back into the faded orange vehicle and; relying on the mans directions, headed south. The mood in the van was beginning to ease up and they got more excited with each passing minute as they ate their ice cream and blasted Sugarcult.  
  
Finally they saw it.  
  
It didn't have the name, but it had an arrow on a sign that read "Campground." The gang looked in awe as Arnold drove the van through the long pathway. It was a gravel road and the grass was a dark lovely green, obviously very well taken care of.  
  
There were trees full in bloom, just a shade lighter then the grass with bright red apples poking out every here and there. The trees curved just slightly over the pathway, making it even more picture perfect, and a feel like they were in a tunnel. Arnold grinned. "Cool." Was all he could whisper at the moment.  
  
Finally the pathway ended and turned into a small check-in/out office with three parking spaces in it and another pathway to the left. Arnold turned to the check-in lot.  
  
Helga glanced at her watch. Almost ten o'clock. Perfect.  
  
Arnold parked the van and told them all to wait there. The moment the gang saw him step into the small office, Helga and Curly jumped out of the van to catch up with him.  
  
They entered the small office, only to find no one behind the counter. On the desk, there was a small stack of paper, a cup of pens, a computer from the eighties, a bell to ring for service, and a notepad with illegible handwriting that resembled scribbles. There was also an ashtray with a cigeratte that looked to be just put out. There was a tiny stream of smoke coming from it; barely visible.  
  
Arnold tapped on the bell, ringing it a few times. There was an awkward silence as Helga lowered her eyebrow. Helga reached out for the bell and rung it several times. Still silence.  
  
"What's going on?" Curly put his hands on his hips, becoming impatient. They waited several minutes. Helga decided to check outside. Maybe a maitanance worker was outside, although she didn't recall seeing one earlier. She glanced outside from the door.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Phoebe, Gerald, and Rhonda then met up with them, wondering what was the wait for.  
  
"We don't have all day!" Rhonda moaned.  
  
"Well...maybe we should come back later..." Arnold suggested in a small voice. Helga scowled.  
  
"I came here to camp, and by-God thats exactly what I'm gonna do!" Helga made it sound like a threat as she walked towards the door. The gang glanced at her.  
  
"Where are you going?" Gerald asked.  
  
"To the campsite to pitch the tents!" Helga told them, spinning around.  
  
"We can't just go to the campsite without checking in...." Phoebe told her.  
  
"Well we paid them good money already with a credit card, didn't we? It's not like we haven't. And besides, we can check in later. We can't get held behind in schedule because Mrs. Idiot-behind-the-counter isn't here," Helga told them firmly.  
  
"Arnold, Helga's right man..." Gerald told him, as if they had to confirm everything with him before actually doing it. Everyone murmered in agreement except for Arnold.  
  
"No way. There's no way I'm going to that campsite without checking in or anything. We could get in trouble you know..." Arnold stated, crossing his arms as he planted his feet firmly into the wood floor.

* * *

_**"I**_ can't beleive I came here without checking in," Arnold groaned.  
  
"Hold these things in, will you?" Gerald told Arnold as he pounded the pegs into the ground with a huge rubber hammer.  
  
Helga, Phoebe and Rhonda had finished pitching their tent. Helga stood a few feet into the water of the lake, with the water up to her ankles. She had rolled her pants up with her hands shoved in her pockets, staring at the open space of water.  
  
Arnold and Gerald wiped their grimy hands and walked towards the lake where the girls were standing. Curly was sitting on the grassnear the tide, attempting to create a fire with two sticks. No one told him it wasn't possible with damp sticks.  
  
"Wouldn't that be funny if I pushed Arnoldo into the lake?" Helga laughed.  
  
"Wouldn't that be funny if I picked you up my self and threw you in?" Arnold grinned, striding towards her in the water.  
  
"You wouldn't dare!" Helga laughed, backing up.  
  
"I would!!" Curly suddenly yelled. He picked up a small log and threw it towards helga, missing her by centinmeters. It made it a huge splash, soaking Helga up to her waist.  
  
"You jackass!!" Helga screamed. She rolled up her sleeves, bent over, and spashed Curly with all her might.  
  
"Hey! That's not fair Helga!!" Curly stood up, then reached into the water to pick up a rock, but slipped into the water instead. The gang roared with laughter, but Rhonda squealed, then ran to the shore where she couldn't get wet even if she wanted too. She was wearing a white blouse.  
  
Helga continued laughing, but was then pushed playfully herself by Curly. She fell face first into the water, soaking her entire body. Helga sat up in the water, wiped her hair away from her face with her small hands, and pouted. She glared at Curly.  
  
"Help me up, Arnold!" Helga snapped, still glaring at Curly. Arnold walked over to her, reached out his hand, then felt himself behing yanked down into the water. Everyone laughed, and eventually Gerald had gotten Phoebe into the water. They were all soaked, laughing and screaming, splashing each other and throwing themselves into the water. Everyone except Rhonda, of course.  
  
Eventually everyone calmed down and made their way to the shore. They spread out on the grass, drying themselves in the sun. Arnold stared up into the sky. He folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. He inhaled the scent of the trees and flowing water and the fresh green grass. He smiled to himself.  
  
"This is going to be one of the best two weeks of my life," he thought to himself.

* * *

REVIEW!!! How'd you like the opener?! :D


	2. Breakdowns, Putdowns, and a Broken Compa...

**_THANK YOU SO much for all those wonderful reviews!! I really appreciate all of them and I hope I can get just as many or even more!!_**

**_Kerry Okie: YES I love that movie! I have a website too. E-mail me whoever wants it!!_**

**_

* * *

_**

**_The_** gang hung their damp clothing on the tree branches after changing into dry hiking clothing. They had somehow talked Arnold into going on a short hike before coming back to check into the main office. It was almost 11:30.  
  
With her hands on her hips, Helga glanced around the forest; debating how to go about this.  
  
"That's funny...there's no trails," Arnold said. Phoebe took out her compass.  
  
"We have a compass. As long as we know which direction we're taking it should be alright," Phoebe told Helga. Thinking quickly so Arnold wouldn't change his mind, Helga pointed in a random direction.  
  
"This way!" Helga ordered. The group shrugged, and with only Arnold hesitating, made their way through the thick forest, their campsite getting farther and farther away from them with their every step.  
  
Soon they were surrounded by nothing but Douglas Firs that seemed to reach the sky, fallen branches covered with moss, occasional patches of green grass, and each other. It was a literal Kodak moment. They heard the distant sound of rushing water and followed the sound until they saw it.  
  
Thirty feet from where they were standing was a clearing. There was a river with clear blue water rushing, and to the left of the river was a cliff.  
  
"Sweet!! Let's follow it!!" Curly yelled, breaking the silence and running towards it. The gang screamed and laughed, catching up with him at the end of the drop-off. Phoebe and Arnold snapped picture after picture after picture, as Rhonda plopped down on a broken log and took off her ankle-high hiking boots. she moaned as she massagued her socked-feet.  
  
"Those shoes look awfully new..." Helga pointed out, lowering an eyebrow.  
  
"Of _COURSE_ they're new. You don't think I'd ever own a pair of these tacky things other then for hiking, do you?" Rhonda asked as if owning a pair of boots for anything other then hiking was the most outragously ridiculous idea she'd ever heard.  
  
Phoebe blushed slightly as she tried in vain to cover her boots that were the same exact style as Rhondas.  
  
"Big deal. When Arnold and I told everyone to bring hiking boots, I meant old worn out ones or sneakers," Helga told her, kicking a pebble with her sneaker.  
  
Rhonda opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by a sound coming from the forest.  
  
It was a sound that put a chill in everyones spines. Even Helga's.  
  
It was the sound of something. Something that they could not determine. The sound of a peircing scream that did not sound human. It couldn't have been. And it wasn't. And the rustling of tree leaves and branches. Everything on the trees, from the grass up to about nine feet, the wind blew so feircly, that some of the branches cracked. It was as if an invisible force nine feet feet tall had scampered a hundred miles per hour through the forest.  
  
No one said anything.  
  
They just stared. Saying nothing. Just staring.  
  
Then there was another peircing shrill shriek. Then another. And then another.  
  
Curly's glasses shattered and cracked. So did Phoebe's. They gasped.  
  
Arnold face grew a terrible pale white color. He began vomiting and vomiting and vomiting, giving up his breakfast, and the dinner from the night before. Then he had nothing left in his stomach to vomit. He heaved air out of his body through his mouth.  
  
Helga burst into tears.  
  
For no reason. She tried to stop, and forced her self to STOP and willed and willed. _STOP CRYING!!!_ she screamed over and over inside her head. But she couldn't keep the tears from from pouring over and over down her cold cheeks. Her tears dampened her sweater collar. Helga fell to her knees, still sobbing loudly.  
  
Snapping out of what seemed like a spell, Phoebe ran to comfort Helga, as Gerald did to Arnold. As soon as Phoebe's small hand touched Helga's shoulder, Helga stopped crying, as sudden as it began.  
  
"I'm alright, I'm alright," Helga told Phoebe in a small wimper, still shaken. Phoebe helped her up, as Helga stood on weak wobbly legs.  
  
"What was that?" Rhonda asked, just below a whisper. With shaking fingers, she clumsily pulled her boot on and tied it.  
  
"What the fuck...?" Curly asked, taking off his now useless glasses. Arnold gave him a cold look. He didn't like that word.  
  
Phoebe glanced at her glasses, still shocked, then dug into her shoulder bag and found her prescription sunglasses.  
  
"I don't know, but let's get the hell out of here, and back to the campsite." Helga said.  
  
"Good. The minute we get back, we're going to to pack up our things and-" Arnold started.  
  
"What?! I'm not leaving!! I mean out of this AREA, not the entire campsite!!" Helga protested.  
  
"DID YOU NOT JUST SEE WHAT HAPPENED?!" Arnold yelled, his eyes widening.  
  
"I can't think of anything that could have been..." Phoebe thought aloud.  
  
"It was probably a coyote," Helga suggested meekly.  
  
"A _COYOTE_?! Rhonda can barely talk, you completly broke down, Curly glasses SHATTERED, along with Phoebes and I just hacked up a years worth of food, branches CRACKED in that wind...and you think it's a _COYOTE_?!" Arnold said sarcastically, still shouting.  
  
Curly chuckled.  
  
"Ever seen that movie Totoro? That's what makes the wind blow..." Curly wasn't scared. Just very shocked at what had happened. He was actually quite amused. Then again, Curly was the kind of person who often tested how far he could place a needle into his thumb during study hall.  
  
Arnold and Helga continued arguing, completly ignoring Curly's remarks.  
  
Phoebe and Gerald couldn't help but snicker softly at the sight. A couple who had been going together for nearly four years, standing twelve feet apart, yelling their heads off at each other. What brought these two together for so long? One never knows.  
  
Arnold raised his arms up in defeat and compromise. Trying to talk Helga into not doing something she already had her heart set on was was as good as trying to pass a camel through the eye of a needle.  
  
He learnt that along time ago.  
  
"Fine!! I'll stay, but only under one condition," Arnold told her. Helga folded her arms and closed and opened her eyes slowly.  
  
"And what one condition would that be?" Helga asked.  
  
"After we go back to our tents, we go straight to the main office to check in and ask what the Hell that was," Arnold finished.  
  
"We were going to do that anyway, but okay..." Helga muttered, leading the way back to the tents, slightly embarassed with her unexpected breakdown. They walked back to the campsite, this time with Phoebe leading, since she had the compass.  
  
It was silent, except for the occasional comments.  
  
"What was that, anyway?"  
  
"I wonder what that could have been..."  
  
"There's no reasonal explanation..."  
  
"I'm hungry."  
  
After about twenty minutes, they reached the campsite. Phoebe stopped dead in her tracks and covered her mouth, dropping her compass in the soft grass near her feet.  
  
"_Now_ what??" Helga asked impatiently. It was the campsite that had made Phoebe stop short.  
  
It was exactly the way they left it. Their bags were in the same place, their campfire, their tents. Their tents....  
  
Their tents were ripped into the tiniest shreds, as if they had gone through a paper shredder. Only they weren't cut with a blade. They were torn. Shredded. Savagely ripped apart; as if by hundreds of tiny claws.  
  
Rhonda ran foward ahead of them, picking at peices of what used to be her father's hunter green tent.  
  
"My father is going to _KILL_ me!! Who the _HELL_ did this?!?!" Rhonda demanded, furious.  
  
"I think the question is, _WHAT_ did that..." Gerald said softly. Staring at his navy blue tent. Or the remenants of it.  
  
"Anyone have any duck tape?" Curly smirked. Rhonda spun on him  
  
"How can you be joking around at a time like this?!?!" Rhonda screamed shrilly. "This place is a HELL HOLE! Not a camping site!! First we get lost, then, Helga has a nervous breakdown, Arnold hurls up his intestines, we all get scared the shit scared out of us, and NOW THIS!!!" Rhonda screamed in Curlys face, who was trying dearly for his life not to laugh. Rhonda's eyes widened. "I know! YOU did this! Didn't you?! DIDN'T YOU?!" Rhonda pointed at him, trying to find someone, ANYONE, to blame.  
  
Gerald rolled his eyes.  
  
"Rhonda, you know Curly couldn't have done this. He was with US the whole time," Gerald told her. Rhonda didn't reply. She grabbed her duffel bags and slung them over her shoulder.  
  
"NOW can we leave?" Arnold whispered, dazed at the scene in front of him. Helga just nodded.  
  
In silence, everyone grabbed their luggage, coolers, and duffel bags, then miserably trudged toward the main office where Arnold's van was parked.  
  
After about fifteen minutes, Curly glanced around at the group.  
  
"Is it just me, or are we taking to wrong direction?" Curly stopped walking and glanced at the scenery with squinted eyes. Phoebe looked thoughtfully at her eighty-five dollar compass.  
  
"No, I'm absolutly positive this is the correct way. I remember these surroundings too," she told them. "Lets keep walking a few more minutes. It can't be too far off now," she said.  
  
They walked for another twenty minutes.  
  
And they didn't find the office. Or Arnold's van.  
  
"What...? This is ridiculous! Phoebe, let me see that," Arnold frowned, wanting to get out of that forest as soon as humanly possible. Phoebe hesitated, but handed it to him anyway.  
  
Phoebe was right. They had been going the right direction. Arnold announced that, and the group groaned in impatience.  
  
"Well...maybe the compass is broken..." Rhonda suggested.  
  
"I just got this from my father last month," Phoebe told her curtly. There was a silence.  
  
"But it just doesn't make any sense...I know I've seen this before. Remember?" Gerald asked, pointing to a tree that had been knawed on by a beaver. "Didn't you point that out earlier?" he asked Phoebe. She nodded.  
  
"This is crazy, that's what it is! There HAS to be some trails or an information booth SOMEWHERE on this campsite, right?" Helga declared.  
  
"Yea, but if there were...which there definatly should be, we'd see them. We've been walking for nearly forty-five minutes," Gerald told her. There was a silence.  
  
"So what do you all purpose we do?" Arnold asked, sitting on a log and dropping his sleeping gear and luggage onto the grass beside him. Another silence.  
  
"The river!" Phoebe exclaimed. "If we go back to the river, it HAS to lead us to SOMETHING..." she thought aloud. Helga jumped up.  
  
"Alright then, lets go! We'll be home in no time then, away from this creepy creepy place..."

* * *

_**Six**_ and a half hours later. 

Nothing.

No river.

And definatly no office.

Rhonda was close to tears. It was near dark, and they had no tents.  
  
"I can't believe this is happening! This place has something wrong with it! Why can't we find the river, or the office?! We can't even find our campsite!!" Rhonda cried shrilly, fighting back tears. Helga and Phoebe were just as close.  
  
"Was anyone smart enough to bring a cellphone?" Gerald asked hopfully.  
  
"I forgot to charge mine."  
  
"I have no more minutes."  
  
"I can't get service around here."  
  
Everyone groaned.  
  
"Well...we could eat something I guess...." Curly suggested. Then they realized that they were all starved, walking for most of the day. Curly and Rhonda passed out drinks and sandwiches.  
  
Arnold clenched his fists by his sides, watching everyone. He was an optimistic person, always helping everyone, looking on the bright side, cheering other people up....but now he couldn't. There was no bright side. Not to this.  
  
For no apparent reason, Arnold stood up and left the group. No one noticed but Helga. He stormed off a couple yards out of view from the group, and sat miserably onto the cold cold ground, and stared up into the sky, the stars still surrounded by trees. No one came after him.  
  
And for the first time in all his seventeen years of life, he truly felt alone.  
  
Maybe it was because he hadn't expected a camping trip to start off like this; maybe it was because he hadn't expected to humiliate himself in front of his best friends by hurling his guts at something that wasn't worth freaking out about; maybe because no one came after him when he needed someone the most; or maybe it was because he always expected everything to be the worst, and not the best.  
  
He wanted to talk to Gerald about these things, but he couldn't. Gerald was his best friend, but he'd still just mock him, or call him a pansy. Arnold had learnt that the hard way.  
  
He was so involved with his thoughts, he didn't hear Helga sit down beside him with a sad look in her eyes.  
  
"What is it?" she asked softly. Arnold shrugged.  
  
"Nothing, I guess. I'm just not having a good day," Arnold lied with a weak smile. Helga punched him on the shoulder.  
  
"Of course not. None of us are. After having to eat Rhonda's homemade tuna sandwiches..." Helga finished. Arnold couldn't help but laugh.  
  
Helga's look turned serious as she rested her head on her fist, gazing at him.  
  
"But what do you suppose that was?" she asked him. Arnold stared at her thoughtfully.  
  
"I really don't know. And I don't know why I reacted like I did. I kept willing myself to stop, but I couldn't. It just kept coming," Arnold told her. Helga's eyes widened.  
  
"Yeah no kidding! Same here!! I don't know what happened back there, but I can tell you it sure wasn't worth _crying_ about!" she said. There was an awkward silence. Helga's smile widened.  
  
"Ever hear about the Jersey Devil??" she asked excitedly. Arnold groaned. That was just like Helga.  
  
"This is Oregon. Not New Jersey," he reasoned.  
  
"Aw you like to take the fun out of everything. Maybe it was the Yetchi," Helga grinned.  
  
"Yeti," Arnold corrected. "And those are only in the Himalyas," Arnold laughed. Helga pouted.  
  
"Then it was probably a big foot," she declared firmly, refusing to be proved wrong.  
  
"I wouldn't count on that, you know those things aren't real," Arnold grinned.  
  
"Of course not, I'm just pulling your leg. But you have to admit, that was pretty dam freaky." Helga told him as she rested her head against his shoulder. Arnold smiled softly, putting his arm around her small waist.  
  
"Yeah, I'll admit that. I've never seen anything like that," Arnold said, almost to himself.  
  
"Getting a little cozy there?" they saw Curly pop out from behind the tree, grinning widely. Behind him was Rhonda, Phoebe and Gerald. Helga blushed, tore off her sneaker and threw it at Curly with all her might. She missed by about three feet.  
  
Everyone laughed, and so did Helga and Arnold; whose mood had really lightened up, although Gerald was giving him a horrible time and making something innocent look impure and rotten. Arnold's face turned just as red as Helgas at Gerald's comments.  
  
"What about you, you hypocrite?! Remember that last week of school when you and Pheebs thought no one else was in the hall way and then the principal came and-" Helga started, trying not to laugh.  
  
"Hey that's not my fault!!" Gerald protested as the entire group laughed louder.  
  
Phoebe coughed, adjusted her glasses, and spoke up to change the subject.  
  
"Arnold, Helga, we have come to a decision. Since it's nearly pitch black out, searching for anything won't do any good. So we're pretty much forced to camp out here, and first thing tommorrow, we're searching again," Phoebe declared as if she were reading from a paper.  
  
She saw the look on Arnold and Helga's face.  
  
"We know, we know, but the compass is obviously messed up. We really have no other choice. Perhaps we were going North instead of South the whole time or visa versa, so despite the similaraties we thought we saw in the surroundings, they must have, and had to be, coincidences," Phoebe explained.  
  
"I'm not exactly looking forward to sleeping in a forest with something that shredded our entire tent into tiny bite-size peices..." Helga started.  
  
"Well, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all of this, and we'll find out first thing tommorrow when we get the the check OUT office, but everything should be fine if we all stick together." Phoebe finished.

"Anyway, it was probably some eight graders idea of a prank," Rhonda spoke up, fuming at the very thought.

So it was settled. They were going to sleep in the forest, where weird things always happen.  
  
The sooner they went to sleep, the sooner they woke up.  
  
Lying between Curly and Gerald in his bright red sleeping bag, Arnold stared into the sky again.

Trying to fall into a deep sleep was what he wanted, but everytime he closed his eyes, scenes from Blair Witch and The Village and other horror movies that took place in a foresty area swam through his eyes, refusing to leave him.

* * *

_**::squeals:: Alright there's the second chapter for ya and a long one toO!!! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!!!!!!!!! I'm working on the third chapter ,**_


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